


apollo and his sunlilies

by ophelialilies



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe – Greek Mythology, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, OT21 (NCT), Romance, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, nomin in the background, slow burn (kind of), taeten also in the background hehe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 03:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22489201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ophelialilies/pseuds/ophelialilies
Summary: in which donghyuck is the son of apollo, mark is the son of hades, and they find love between the sun and the sky.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 38
Kudos: 375
Collections: Favorites





	1. the morning kiss of sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> I love markhyuck and I love greek mythology, and couldn't get this au out of my head. please let me know what you think in the comments ♡
> 
> you can find me on my twitter [ophelialilies](https://twitter.com/ophelialilies) or on [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ophelialilies) ♡♡♡

Soft grass tickles at Donghyuck’s bare feet as he sighs and leans back in his mother’s arms. A gentle breeze rustles along the meadowbank and through the fields of golden sunlilies, which sway like nymphs under the morning kiss of sunlight. Their delicate golden petals open to gaze at the sun, at Apollo’s light, their pollen like pixie dust sparkling through the air.

Donghyuck lifts one toe to poke curiously at the small body of water drifting past. The water is slightly warm and crystal clear, the perfect temperature for swimming in this lazy morning heat. The field of sunlilies is vast, in full bloom and covering most of the ground from the beginning of Delos to the great temple. 

Delos is the home of Apollo, of his son Donghyuck and of the Nine Muses. It floats in the sky underneath the sun, blessed with golden sunlight and the eternal lyre, whose delicate strings can be heard every day of the year. Fields of sunlilies bloom year round, and the land was more fertile than the volcanic hills of Italia. To most, Delos is known as a piece of Elysium in the world of the living. 

Small white doves dance and dive amongst the woodlands, landing on the meadowbank near Donghyuck’s feet to lap at the clear, flowing water. 

Daphne, daughter of Mother Nature herself, hums a tune under her breath that makes the birds chirp affectionately before they fly off on their way. Plucking lilies from the grass, his mother’s hands gently braid them into his golden locks. 

“You are gorgeous, my son.” she speaks gently, her hands never faltering their gentle touch on his head. “Your beauty rivals that of the gods, but don’t tell them I said that.” she says, and Donghyuck laughs. He turns his head around to look up at her, seeing the affectionate smile on her lips. He turns back, eyes half-lidded as he thinks of tonight.

It is the summer solstice, and the temple is alive with satyrs, nymphs, fairies and other creatures preparing anxiously for the annual solstice feast. Donghyuck’s father, Apollo, was responsible for hosting it and leading the ceremonies as the god of the Sun. The feast lasted a week, and was more diplomatic than anything else, yet Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel excited as it was the first time he was allowed to attend.

He had spent the last 19 summer solstices in his room, bored out of his mind and burning with curiosity to see the gods, the feast, to hear the tales of war, glory, and of mortals. 

In fact, it was the first time anyone but the twelve gods of Olympus were allowed to attend. They had decided to open the gates for their offspring, whether divine or heroic, to attend too. 

When preparations for the feast had begun a few moon cycles prior, Apollo had told his son the decision was made because the children of the gods had proved themselves with heroic acts for mortals and victories over their enemies. Donghyuck thought it more likely that the gods were running out of babysitters for the sheer amount of offspring they had (especially Zeus), but he kept that to himself.

The loud ringing of terracotta bells sounded from the temple, snapping Donghyuck back to the present. 

“It’s time.” his mother said, moving gently to help Donghyuck to his feet without disturbing him or his hair. They walked hand in hand, tracing the path of flowers back to the temple. His mother’s mauve peplos draped over her elegant figure, her long wavy locks flowing behind her like the rivers of Peneus, her father. Donghyuck basks in her beauty for a few more moments, his thoughts disturbed by the appearance of hundreds of golden chariots in the sky.

Led by dozens of white stallions, the chariots breached the fluffy clouds which held Delos in the sky and raced towards the temple, landing in the large white marble square out front. 

Donghyuck felt another wave of excitement and curiosity surge through his body, underscored by a hint of nerves. His mother sensed it, squeezing his hand reassuringly as they reached the foot of the temple, climbing the stairs to their wing to get ready. 

∾


	2. a boy made of gold

Donghyuck’s reflection stares back at him, floating and wobbling in the bath water. Lilac peonies, freesias and laurel leaves obscure parts of his face, his body, as they drift across the water’s surface. 

The water reflects back an image of a boy who personifies gold. A subtle golden aura outlines his tall and lean figure, accentuated by the traditional Apollonian golden silk chiton draped from his left shoulder and clasped at his right hip. The garment flows down to just above his knees, drawn at the waist by a silk sash. Donghyuck can’t help but think he looks just like his father. 

His right nipple and bare chest is exposed, revealing tan, sunkissed skin and a few sparse but artistically placed moles, a reminder that Donghyuck was in fact the son of the god of art. 

His lips, plump and full, are heart-shaped, like Cupid’s bow. The flowers in his hair braid the golden locks out of his face, but a stray lock has managed to escape, dangling just above his eyes. 

Donghyuck huffs, trying to blow it back but it falls again relentlessly. He sighs, his attention picking up when he hears the distant sounds of booming laughter and excited voices in the massive dining area of the temple. His feet, clad in golden sandals with straps that wrap his legs like vines, walk towards the door and down the stairs following the sound. 

He reaches the entrance to the room and takes a quick breath, feeling his usual confidence return. 

When Donghyuck steps through the marble archway, he doesn’t miss the way the room goes quiet, if just for a moment, as the eyes of gods, demigods, divinities and mystical creatures find him. He is used to his presence having this effect on mortals, but the fact that it affected even the gods makes him blush slightly. 

Catching the eyes of his father sitting at the head of the long marble table, he receives a bright smile. When his father smiles it is truly like the sun smiling down on the earth. He finds a seat next to his father and the noise in the room resumes itself. 

The room is extravagant, to say the least, meant for the pleasure of the gods. Grandiose windows open onto the rolling fields of sunlilies, the vineyards and sparkling lakes, pouring off the edge of Delos and cascading towards the earth eternally. 

The room is lit by an Apollian sundial, golden and glass, capturing light from every source and refracturing it into the room. Cherubs drift and dance playfully in the air above the table, pouring nectar into the gods and goddesses cups and playfully shooting arrows at random, which dissolve into sparkly dust. 

Strings of flowers, from tulips to lavender and marigold, sown by Demeter, are draped over each chair and hang from the walls. There are almost a hundred seats, filled by gorgeous and powerful gods and goddesses, strong and young demigods, nymphs, satyrs and other creatures. 

The room is loud, with people talking over each other, laughing, joking and sharing tales of glory and gore. The room smells like grapes, like summer, like sunrise, and like power. 

Donghyuck takes a sip of nectar from the golden chalice in front of him, feeling its warm, honey-like texture burn pleasantly at his throat and in his chest. Feeling it go straight to his head, he puts the cup down again, catching a knowing smile from his mother next to him. 

Looking up, Donghyuck spots one cherub snatching one of a wall and wrapping it around his torso. A hand to his forehead dramatically, he mocks the chitons and tunics the guests adorn. Donghyuck thinks the cherub lucky that he was seemingly the only one who noticed. That is, he thought he was the only one who noticed, until he drops his gaze slightly and meets the eyes of a boy at the opposite end of the table. 

His hair is jet black, swept off his face revealing pale skin and sparkling eyes. A silver chain earring dangles from his ear, a diamond hanging at the end. His lips are more red than pink, like a vampire, his skin catching the light way that made it almost sparkle. Donghyuck grazes his eyes down the boy’s body, which is visible through his sheer blouse. His chest is exposed, the undone buttons hanging limply at his sides. His body is lean but defined. More muscular and strong than Donghyuck’s own. The body of a victor. Of a hero. Donghyuck takes a sharp breath.

He knows from the way the boy’s irises flicker through a myriad of colours, like precious gems, that he is a son of Hades. Not just a son of Hades, but _the_ son of Hades. Mark. An enigma. He looked like power. Like laughter. Like lust. 

His burning eyes rake over Donghyuck’s figure, lingering on his exposed chest and again on his lips. Their eyes meet again, and Donghyuck imagines this boy slaying Medusa, heavy sword moving swiftly with skill, eyes closed, the blade cutting right through her neck. Her stone head hitting the ground. 

The legend of Mark, son of Hades and infamous victor amongst the gods, was one widely known. It remained the talk of the town and the gods for a long time, only replaced eventually by the passing of time. That same legend, Donghyuck thought, did not do justice to the son of Hades’ beauty. His gaze draws you in, his eyes like glimmering like jewels in the dark. Seductive with just a look. Rivalling that of Jungwoo, the son of Aphrodite. Mark looks like desire personified. 

Moments pass and Donghyuck breaks away from the boy’s unwavering gaze. He takes another sip of nectar, more like a shot this time, and hears the words echoing in his head:

“Eros, have mercy on me.” 

∾


	3. tales from the forest

Mark was just beginning to doze off, old and wrinkled book in his hand, when he feels Taeyong stretch lazily like a cat on the lounge next to him. The two are sleepy and tired after training, opting to rest in the outdoor patio under the morning sun while they wait for the chariots to leave for Delos. 

Mark shifted, sitting up and trying his best to avoid disturbing the son of Zeus laying next to him. His striking black hair, contrasted by a single streak of white like lightning, was messy and disheveled. Taeyong sat up too, and Mark reached out to fix his best friend’s hair affectionately. Taeyong smiled gratefully, and Mark laughed to himself. 

“What?” Taeyong shot at him in annoyance.

“The mortals fear you, and yet in reality you are so lazy and soft.” Mark said, laughing harder when Taeyong shot him an electric glare. His eyes softened though, and he laughed too, but not before zapping Mark with one of his electric fingers. Mark retaliated, wrapping his icy hand around Taeyong’s wrist and threatening to freeze him to the core. Taeyong shoved him off and the two laughed again, with an ease defined by years of friendship. 

“Are you excited for tonight?” Taeyong asked, changing the subject. Mark only hummed in response. A moment passed before Taeyong spoke again.

“You know, one of the forrest nymphs told Ten, who told YangYang, who told Xiaojun, who told me, that the son of Apollo will be there.” Taeyong smiled innocently at Mark. 

Once Mark had wrapped his head around the story of who-told-who, and refrained from asking what the son of Hermes was doing with a forrest nymph, he spoke. 

“You mean  _ the  _ son of Apollo?” Mark asked, keeping his voice calm. Taeyong only nodded, watching him curiously. Mark exhaled, his mind drifting to the tales he had heard of the son of Apollo. A boy of unrivalled beauty, master of the bow with a voice of liquid gold. Tonight would be more interesting than he had anticipated. 

Taeyong let out a knowing laugh at Mark’s silence. “Hey now, don’t go getting any ideas. He’s all mine.”. 

Mark shoved Taeyong gently. “As if you would be beautiful enough for him.” he quipped back. Taeyong clutched his chest, feigning being shot by an arrow, a look of pain on his face.

“I’m hurt.” he said.

“Good. And what about Ten?” ” Mark responded, laughing when Taeyong’s scowl deepened. Mark shot him an innocent smile. 

_ Really _ , he thought to himself,  _ most had no idea what Taeyong was really like _ . Then again, most had no idea what Mark was really like either. Gods were always shrouded in myths and legends. Their reputations always preceding them. 

Their domestic squabble was interrupted by the sound of horses neighing, and they both stood. Mark’s sheer white blouse was open, a few buttons undone, the pleasant summer breeze caressing his skin. He had become so accustomed to the dark and dampness of the Underworld, the heat of Olympus was like a literal breath of fresh air. Combing his fingers through his hair, he follows Taeyong silently to the chariots. The driver whispered to the horses and they took flight, racing through the air towards Delos. 

Mark’s mind wandered again to the son of Apollo. The image of a golden boy lingered behind his eyes for most of the journey.

∾


	4. soft whispers and quiet eyes, all for the golden boy

He senses the boy’s presence before he sees it. The room goes quiet, if only for a moment, as all eyes land on him. Mark even thinks he hears someone gasp, or maybe that was himself. The son of Apollo is radiant, golden, and certainly more beautiful than anyone or anything Mark had ever seen. And that was saying something, because his best friend was Taeyong, for Hades’ sake. 

The boy seemed unaffected by the attention, moving silently to the opposite side of the table, taking a seat next to Apollo. Mark’s gaze was stolen away when the son of Hermes, Ten sitting opposite him, spoke. 

“That’s him.” he half-whispered, also catching the attention of Taeyong next to Mark. The two of them turned again to glance at the son of Apollo.

“He’s-” Taeyong begun, but Mark cut him off, with a “breathtaking”. Ten sighed with a “yeah” and Mark noticed the way Taeyong shot Ten a jealous glare. 

“I bet everyone in this floating temple is in love with him, though,” Ten said, with an air of disappointment. Taeyong looked even more jealous. “And perhaps the whole world, if they just got to look at him.”

Taeyong said something in response, but Mark wasn’t listening anymore. He was watching the boy, who was sipping at his nectar and smiling at his father. Mark didn’t miss the way the cherubs in the room seemed to linger above the boy for longer than others, whispering into each other’s ears and giggling. 

He didn’t blame them. The boy’s beauty was captivating, with his golden aura and delicate smile. 

Mark watched the boy a little longer, following his eyes to a cherub flying halfway between them. The cherub was playing with a flower wreath, draping it over himself like a chiton, mocking the way the gods dress. 

Mark dropped his eyes again to the boy. He must have sensed eyes on him (as if everyone’s weren’t) because moments later he looked at Mark, their eyes meeting in an intense gaze. 

The boy’s eyes were wide and golden and moving, like a swirling pool of melted gold poured by Hephestus himself.  _ Beauty unparalleled _ , Mark thought, his breath hitching slightly in his throat. That boy was magnetic, ethereal, and looking at him was irresistible, almost as if Mark was compelled by magic to do so. His eyes were intoxicating, more so than nectar or any of Dionysus’ wine, and Mark felt a sensation only describable as thick, fresh honey pooling in his stomach, a sweet taste in his mouth. 

Mark lost himself in those molten eyes. Whether for a moment, or an eternity, Mark was unsure. However, it was just as quickly broken when the other boy looked away. His tan fingers wrapped around the chalice in front of him, and Mark watched him bring it to his soft lips, taking a sip. 

Mark heard a laugh somewhere near him, and turned to see Jungwoo. The son of Aphrodite was whispering something in a cherub’s ear and laughing. He shot Mark a mischievous, knowing smile. What Jungwoo knew, Mark wasn’t sure. All he knew was that Jungwoo’s eyes screamed  _ I see right through you.  _

Mark smiled back politely, averting his gaze and watching a cherub, one that had been perched on Jungwoo’s shoulder, fly behind the son of Apollo and pretend to shoot an arrow in his back. The cherub giggled and flew away, but Mark could still feel Jungwoo’s eyes watching him carefully. 

Mark took a quick sip of his own nectar, resisting the temptation of looking at the golden boy again. A flame of passion and desire burned deep inside him, calling him to pursue the boy. 

∾


	5. lips crimson like ichor

Donghyuck spends the rest of the dinner listening to his friends Jaemin, the son of Athena, and Jeno, son of Poseidon, argue about who was the most attractive demigod at the feast. 

It felt like watching a Greek drama. It was painfully obvious to him that the reason the two were becoming passionately angry about the topic, was because they both thought the most attractive person here was the other, and refused to admit it. 

Donghyuck had spent most of his childhood watching the two bicker back and forth in denial. Many spring days had been spent in the meadows with Jaemin, who sobbed on his shoulder in frustration at Jeno for not reciprocating his feelings. 

Donghyuck had spent an equal amount of time with Jeno, in the training barracks, offering him a duelling partner to let out his frustration with Jaemin for not reciprocating his feelings. These matches often ended with Jeno lying in Donghyuck’s lap, sobbing, while Donghyuck ran a soothing hand through his hair and comforted him.

You see the dramatic irony here. The two were hopelessly in love and painfully in denial. Again,  _ like something out of Sophocles _ , Donghyuck thought. 

Although, it wasn’t his place to interfere, so he let the two of them pine over each other, waiting patiently for the day one of them finally confessed to the other. Honestly, for the children of such strategic and intelligent gods, they were a bit slow. 

Donghyuck, still listening to the two bicker, stole a glance at the son of Hades. He was engaged in a conversation with several other demigods, all attractive (an unattractive demigod was rare), but not in the same way that Mark was. Something about the boy’s eyes were tempting and tantalising, longing and lustful. Full of power. 

In his quiet daze Donghyuck tried to shift his eyes away from Mark. The boy had infected his brain.

His eyes landed on the son of Aphrodite, who wasn’t far away, watching him wink at a cherub who winked right back. 

∾

After the feast, the atmosphere shifts to that of a Dionysiac bacchanalia, with most of the gods drunk on nectar. This is, of course, thanks to Dionysus himself and his mischievous sons Johnny and Jaehyun, who (even more so than the cherubs) make sure everyone’s cups are full.

The party has moved to the peristyle, a grand courtyard in the centre of the massive temple, and one of Donghyuck’s favourite places in Delos. The marble patio was decorated with golden silk lounges and chairs for guests to relax on, and each Doric column had a line of poetry inscribed. If one walked the perimeter and read the inscriptions on all one-hundred columns (the courtyard was that large) it formed the Homeric  _ Hymn to Apollo.  _

Apollo loved to remind himself of how the mortals below worshipped him. It was true, he was one of their favourite gods, for the sun brought life, brought growth, brought prosperity. 

At the centre of the peristyle was a large, shallow pool. The water was full of freshly plucked golden sunlilies floating on the surface of the clear water. The bottom of the pool was a tiled mosaic of the sun, its rays glimmering with light that reflected on the guests’ faces. 

At the centre of the pool was a statue of a water nymph, holding a cornucopia to her lips that spilled over with water. 

Donghyuck spent the midday hours conversing politely with other gods and goddesses, most of whom he had met before. It is their children he had not, and he enjoys a friendly conversation with the strikingly elegant son of Zeus, a boy named Taeyong, and a memorable conversation with the boisterous son of Ares, Lucas. 

All socialised-out, and a little tipsy on nectar, Donghyuck finds himself alone on the edge of the peristyle. Grateful for the breath of fresh air, away from the chaos, he sips again at his nectar, feeling its hints of warm gold buzzing in his throat. 

The face of an enigmatic boy come to mind, and he searches the crowd for the son of Hades. The boy had left the feast a little early with another boy, a son of Hermes, and Donghyuck hadn’t seen him since. To his disappointment, he was unable to find Mark, and his mind started to wander if there was something between him and the Hermes boy. 

His mind ponders the thought for a little longer, its gravity weighing on Donghyuck slightly. He feels disappointed at the thought, and hopes that he’s wrong. There was something in the eyes of Mark that Donghyuck has never seen before. Something indescribable, intangible, out of his grasp. Something he desperately wants to know, wants to understand. The boy looks like glory and death. 

Minutes pass, Donghyuck’s mind on the boy, when something in the air changes. He feels it before he sees it, a cold chill running down his spine despite the afternoon heat. A slight metallic taste on his tongue he knows isn’t from the nectar. 

Something moves in the space next to him and he turns to find Mark there, leaning against a column. He looks like a marble statue, elegant and poised, like the work of a true artist. His long fingers, decorated with several gold band rings, are wrapped around a cup and his eyes like jewels are locked on Donghyuck. 

Now, so close, Donghyuck notices the way the boy’s skin sparkles in the golden sunlight, like crystal sand on an island beach, or a diamond cave, untouched by mortals. There is something equally inviting and impenetrable about them. 

His lips look soft, so delicately crimson, like blood.  _ But not the blood of mortals _ , Donghyuck thinks.  _ Ichor _ .  _ The blood of gods.  _

Donghyuck realises he is staring when a hint of the boy’s tongue glides across his lips. Donghyuck glances back up to those intense eyes, a flicker of laughter or amusement dancing in them, and he feels his own heart pounding in his chest. The boys eyes are on his for a moment that feels like an eternity (he would know, he’s immortal), when the other boy speaks.

∾


	6. the son of the sun

“So you are the son of the Sun.” the boy says, and his voice is deep and rich like the earth is with minerals. “Your beauty precedes you.”. 

Donghyuck feels himself blush, heat rising to his cheeks that isn’t from the sun. The other seems to notice, a smile peeking at the corner of his lips. It isn’t mocking, but inviting, like he knows he has already won. 

“Yours is the beauty that makes poets go mad, unable to find the words to do it justice.” the boy continues, and Donghyuck urges his heart to calm down, determined to present with his usual wit. He has little desire to reveal to this boy, who he does not know, how his words alone are affecting him. 

Donghyuck was used to praise for his looks. It usually didn’t affect him, having lived his whole life receiving compliments and stares full of awe. He was used to the way nymphs would whisper to each other, the way some demigods would stare at him like something they could take, or own. The way mortals prayed to him for beauty of their own, and the way artists would beg to paint him. 

This was different. The words tasted different on Mark’s lips. They went straight to his heart, instead of his head. 

_ Perhaps there was something in the nectar.  _

“You are forgetting my voice of gold, blessed by the Nine Muses.” Donghyuck quips back without a second thought, and the boy seems taken aback for a moment, not suspecting such a response. Donghyuck mentally pats himself on the back, grateful for his sharp tongue returning. It had been as though he was paralysed, stung with a venomous infatuation and lost in the boy’s eyes. Or maybe he was just tipsy. 

“I would be careful if I were you. They are here today.” Donghyuck continues, not missing a beat. He gestures around, and the boy’s eyes follow his gaze. 

There is truth in his threat, Donghyuck thinks, as his eyes land on Doyoung, Sicheng, Yuta, Hendery, Renjun, Taeil, Jisung, Kun and Chenle. The nine of them are draped around the large pool at the centre of the peristyle. Some are sitting, others are standing, and a few are floating atop the thin water filled with Apollo’s sunlilies. 

Doyoung’s legs are spread around a large golden harp, his fingers plucking at the strings effortlessly, as if music were his mother tongue. Taeil, with a voice that speaks for the heavens, is singing a Hymn to Apollo, while Sicheng dances, his body arching and bending like flowing water. 

Yuta’s eyes are scanning through the book between his fingers pensively, biting at his lip, while Jisung, Renjun and Chenle splash water at each other playfully, their laughter filling the air with the joy of youth. Kun is reciting epic histories with ease, while Hendery perches next to him, gazing at the sun and stars through a silver spyglass.

When Donghyuck looks back to the boy, he finds him to be already looking, a wider smile on his lips this time. 

“My apologies, your grace.” he bows his head and Donghyuck laughs, their eyes meeting again in a playful gaze. 

“You have many names” the boy begins to speak again. “Haechan, the full sun, helios...” the boy trails off. Donghyuck decides he likes the way his names sounds in this boy’s mouth. They were the ones mortals and other divinities used. They were his worship names, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted more; to see Mark worship him, or to worship Mark himself. His eyes wander again to those pink lips, when he watches them ask, “what may I call you?”. 

“Donghyuck. It’s my birthname. An ode to destiny, luck and power...” Donghyuck says pensively, thinking back to the unusual yet meaningful name his mother gave him at birth. No one says it with a voice more sweet than her, the name oozing from her lips like honey in spring. 

The other boy hums to himself. “Donghyuck” he says, his eyes never leaving Donghyuck’s own. Something enigmatic and electric sparkles in his eyes. The name doesn’t sound as sweet as when his mother says it, instead laced with something alive and wild. Something untameable, beckoning him closer. Like stumbling around in the darkness, hands reaching out for soft flesh. 

There is an intimate pause before Donghyuck speaks.

“And what can I call you?” Donghyuck asks, although he already knows the boy’s name. 

“Call me by your name.” the boy responds, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. His eyes still look wild and daring. Donghyuck notices the cool aura of the boy reaching his own skin with its electric touch, as the boy leans in closer. 

“As you wish, Donghyuck.” Donghyuck says back, a laugh dancing on his lips when the other boy laughs too. 

“The mortals know me as Minhyung, but you can call me Mark.”

“Or maybe just hyung?” Donghyuck quips innocently, and Mark laughs at the pun on his name, clearly impressed.

“You are certainly your father’s son, the god of poetry and wit.” Mark praises him with a flirtatious tone. Donghyuck sees the way Mark’s eyes glaze over when he says “hyung”. 

“Is it true, that you slayed Medusa?” Donghyuck asked, changing the subject. Mark’s praise was making him feel a little too heated. Mark shifted, looking pensive for a moment.

“Yes, it is.” Mark says seriously, which contrasts with his smug tone when he speaks again, catching Donghyuck by surprise. “But how did you know that?” Mark smirks. 

Donghyuck mentally slaps himself for giving himself away.

“Oh, everyone knows, Mark the Medusa Slayer.” he quips back, voice laced with sass, trying to recover from his slip. But Mark has already got him where he wanted him.

“So if you knew my name, why did you ask?” Mark is practically grinning, and Donghyuck feels both annoyed at not being the one in control, and flustered at the feeling of Mark winning. Winning over him. 

All Donghyuck could muster is a sarcastic eye roll, and a laugh, trying to play it off. His knows he’s blushing, hard. Mark knows he’s won, and his smile softens.

“It is true, though. My father sent me to kill her. She was causing too much trouble for the mortals, and the mortals were starting to blame him.” Mark said seriously. 

“Was it difficult?” Donghyuck asked, and Mark seemed to appreciate the genuine interest.

“Honestly, yes it was. I had to fight with my eyes closed.”

“But you’re used to that, right? Being the god of darkness.”

“Yes, but it was still difficult. Although, as long as I have a sword in my hands, I will always win.” Mark says, his eyes sparkling and a grin on his lips. Sick of being on the defense of Mark’s wit, Donghyuck thinks of a counter. 

“I suspect it’s because you’re so used to the darkness. The way you were looking at me at the feast spoke volumes. You looked blinded.” Donghyuck spoke, feeling a small smile appear on his lips when Mark looked slightly shocked. 

“How do you know I was looking at you?”

“No need to lie, Mark. I was looking at you, too.” Donghyuck responded, speaking with confidence while his heart did somersaults in his chest. Mark looks at Donghyuck with nothing but flirtation burning in his eyes. The two stare at each other for an intense moment, Donghyuck licking his lips and subconsciously leaning closer to the son of Hades, wanting to be closer, to be in his arms, to feel his lips-

“Donghyuck!” A loud voice interrupts them rudely. It’s Jaemin, and he’s walking at speed towards the two. “Your father needs you. Negotiations with Artemis for the winter solstice.” he says, but his voice falters as he gets closer. He bows to Mark, with a sheepish “Oh, am I interrupting something?”.

Donghyuck sends him a glare, picturing an arm wrapping around Jaemin’s neck, choking him  _ just  _ enough to-

“No, Jaemin. I was just getting to know our prince, here.” Mark says, smiling at Jaemin while his hand snakes around Donghyuck’s waist, pulling him close. Donghyuck’s breath hitches. Jaemin looks between them, then at Mark’s hand around Donghyuck’s waist, and then back up again. 

“Is it urgent?” Donghyuck asks, hoping it isn’t. When Jaemin nods, Donghyuck sighs, taking Mark’s hand in his and turning to face him. 

“I must go. You’re staying for the full week of festivities?” Donghyuck asks, cursing the way he sounds so hopeful. Mark smiles at him, without any tease this time, just kindness. His thumb rubs circles into Donghyuck’s hand soothingly, as he says “Of course. Go.”.

The two separate, and Donghyuck walks to the otherside of the peristyle where his father and Artemis are waiting for him. Jaemin walks next to him silently, likely wondering what he had just witnessed. If Jaemin were to ask, Donghyuck wouldn’t even know himself. What did just happen?

His heart was thundering in his chest, as he throws one last glance back at Mark, who is still leaning on the column watching him go. There was a glint in his eyes as he smiled. 

∾


	7. soft and dipped in honey

The pearly silk bed sheets were more comfortable than a bed of clouds, and yet Mark still could not sleep. He tossed and turned, restless and wide awake. 

His heart pounded noisily in his chest, so loud he could hear it over the magic lyre playing itself in the corner of his room. He tried to will himself to sleep, but there was a mental barrier there, blocking him. 

It was a barrier created by his brain, denying him the comfort of sleep he craved, forcing him to confront the anxious, heavy feeling of turmoil in his heart. His mind was scared for him. 

The barrier was shaped like the son of Apollo. Thoughts of his face, of his lips, his body, his voice. The flirtatious conversation they had exchanged, masked in wit. 

Even of his golden chiton, and the way he had looked just like Apollo, only more beautiful. 

Mark had never felt so perturbed as he did now. He is the son of a god, immortal and has lived to love some of the most beautiful creatures in the realm. And yet, nothing has touched his heart like Donghyuck. From one simple conversation, Donghyuck had unravelled him, gotten inside like nothing had before. 

This was unsettling. It frightened him. His heart was moving at a concerning pace after only several encounters. The son of Apollo was infamous for his beauty, but little could have prepared Mark for it. It was like a charm, forcing you to look at him, to think about him, and him only. 

The boy was like Narcissus, his beauty unparalleled, and yet Mark was the one who couldn’t stop looking at him, craving another glance at that heavenly face. 

Perhaps it was the nectar, or the cherubs.  _ Gods _ , maybe even Jungwoo. But Mark felt disturbed, out of place, his usual cool resistance breached. It was probably Donghyuck’s quick tongue.  _ Oh _ , Mark thought,  _ his tongue.  _ But he stopped himself from pursuing that thought, desperate to sleep. 

After what felt like half a moon cycle, Mark finally drifted off, his last thought being of Donghyuck’s angelic voice. It was famous amongst the gods for being the most beautiful voice of any divinity, more beautiful than Beauty herself. Mark fell asleep to the thought of what it may sound like, hoping to one day hear it. 

∾

When Mark wakes up, the sun is just rising above the clouds. His sleep was short and restless, the messy sheets serving as testimony. Lids heavy, he felt exhausted, but knew there was no chance of getting back to sleep. Mark sighed. The bed had felt strangely empty, and he found himself in the middle, trying to fill the space. 

At home in the Underworld, there was usually another presence, just a stranger, a warm body. They came and they went. It didn’t matter who. Mark craved the warmth, needed it.

He loved the darkness as much as he loved the light. 

He had always thought of himself in Hades’ image, as the son of darkness. But it was easy to forget that he was also the son of Persephone. There was an equally dominant piece of him which honoured spring, growth, and Life. Not just Death. 

On this bright summer morning, Mark could only think of one person he wanted in his bed. He was sure that the radiant son of Apollo would be warmer than the fires that burned across his sun. Maybe he would be able to penetrate Mark’s walls, get past his cold front, light a fire so deep in his stomach it never stopped burning. Maybe Donghyuck would keep him warm forever. Or maybe Mark was just being dramatic. He was a god after all. They had a flair for the dramatic. 

A lazy yawn escaped his lips, and he got out of bed. Reaching through his drawers, Mark picked out a pale blue silk blouse, one that revealed the right amount of neck and bit of chest. He pulled on slightly darker blue pants, chasing a more colourful look than his usual deep reds, purples and blacks. 

The summer heat had an effect on him. He felt different here. More alive, more awake. Mark was dead, by blood, so why did life feel so good?

∾

Mark’s bare feet welcomed the cool touch of the white marble as he wandered out of the temple and down the steps the the sunlily fields. Eos blessed the sky with her dawn, the sun beginning to break through the horizon with the early hour. 

There was little separation between the edge of the large temple and the beginning of the flower fields. After a few metres of grass, the flowers began. 

They were tall and in vast numbers, covering the ground so densely that Mark couldn’t see where he was stepping. Swaying in the morning breeze like forrest nymphs, they rustled at his knees, tickling at his exposed skin as he walked through. 

Delos was famous for its lilies, and their beauty did not disappoint. Halfway to the thin lake which cut the field in half, Mark bent down to inspect one of the flowers. Plucking one from its roots, the golden petals crumbled in his hand, turning to sparkling dust and floating away on the breeze.  _ Curious _ , Mark thought to himself.

Mark stayed like that for a few more moments, planting his feet into the ground gently. It felt good to be on solid ground, to feel the grass shoot through the gaps between his toes. He liked that he couldn’t be seen for once, crouched below the tall stems. 

Losing himself in the moment, Mark came to when he heard a sound only describable as the voice of a fallen angel. The voice was nearby, and was singing a verse from one of Homer’s epics. Effortless notes, soft and dipped in honey, soothed Mark’s ears. 

He closed his eyes, breathing in the voice as if trying to commit it to memory. He had never heard anything more beautiful. 

Hesitantly, Mark stood up. He was determined to find the voice but not to reveal himself, for fear of disturbing them. He didn’t want the voice to stop.

As Mark nears, the voice becomes louder and is underscored by the sound of a gentle current. Clear blue water rivalling that of Olympus comes into view, as Mark approaches the meadowbank.

On the water’s edge, a figure is crouched, facing the water. A light golden silk robe is draped over his body, tan arms and torso exposed to the sunlight. The voice seems to be throwing something into the water. 

So entranced by the figure, Mark steps on a twig and it snaps underfoot. Immediately, the voice stops and the figure turns. Mark’s eyes meet golden ones, ablaze with light. It’s Donghyuck. Of course it’s Donghyuck. 

∾


	8. melted gold and summer afternoons (he would taste like)

Perhaps Mark’s wish to hear the boy’s voice had come true. Perhaps the cherubs were really at play here, like puppeteers meddling in the lives of the gods the same way the gods meddled in the lives of the mortals. 

  
A loaf of fresh bread broken in the boy’s two hands, the ducklings in the lake chirped at Donghyuck expectantly. Donghyuck looked startled, but his expression soon settles to an unreadable neutrality. Mark is the first to speak.

“Please, don’t stop.” Mark says, gesturing at Donghyuck. Donghyuck nods and turns back to ducklings, throwing them small bits of bread he breaks off with his gorgeous, tan hands. Much to Mark’s dismay, he doesn’t continue singing. 

“Your voice...” Mark starts, at a loss for words. Donghyuck only hums, still facing the water. “I’ve never heard anything like it.” he says, with gentleness and awe in his voice. Donghyuck pauses, for only a moment.

“Well, I did tell you my voice was gifted by the Nine Muses, didn’t I?” Donghyuck quips, a smirk on his face as he looks at Mark. He turns back to the water before he can see Mark’s look of surprise.

“Yes, you did. But I couldn’t have imagined how beautiful it would be.” Mark spoke, and Donghyuck turned again to look at him, their eyes meeting. Donghyuck’s expression seemed curious, as if he was working out whether Mark was being honest or had other intentions. He must have decided the former to be true, because a radiant smile appeared on his face.

“Thank you, Mark.” Donghyuck said, and Mark returned the smile. It was peculiar, because their first few encounters had been flirtatious, intense. Yet here on the meadowbank there was something deeper, more sincere. The air was thick with wonder. 

Walking down to the water, Mark rolled his pants up to his knees and sat beside Donghyuck. He tested the water tentatively, before submerging his feet. The crystal water lapped at his knees as Mark lay back on the grass, humming in pleasure. The sun burned itself into his eyes like a spectre dancing behind his eyelids. When he opened them again, Donghyuck was looking at him, but looked away again immediately. A few pleasant moments passed until Donghyuck spoke again.

“You know, you should be careful.” Mark opened his eyes, propping himself up on elbows to look at Donghyuck. “There are sunsnakes in this lake.” Donghyuck finished calmly, eyeing the water. Meanwhile, Mark’s eyes were wide, his heart racing at an abnormal speed. Out of pure flight instinct, Mark jumped to his feet, running in the opposite direction. He stopped only when he heard Donghyuck’s laughter, laughing so hard he was clutching at his abdomen. 

Confused, Mark walked back hesitantly. “What? Why are you laughing?” Mark tilted his head. Donghyuck, still laughing, gasped for breath.

“There are no sunsnakes here.” he wheezed, rolling on his back in breathless laughter. Mark’s heart rate slowed again as he came out of a state of fear and into one of annoyance.

“What”? Mark huffed.

“There are no sunsnakes. I made it up to scare you.” Donghyuck panted from his position on his back. He had stopped laughing, his breathing still heavy and laboured. 

“You know, for a hero, you sure do scare easily.”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Mark launched himself at Donghyuck, who preempted the attack and was on his feet faster than light. He ran away from Mark, parallel to the meadowbank, Mark close on his toes. They kept at it until Mark finally gained on him, a hand grabbing at the boy’s golden robe as they tumbled to the ground rolling on top of each other.

When they came to a stop, Donghyuck was on his back, panting and looking up at Mark with a daring smile. Mark’s hand was at Donghyuck’s waist, the fabric of his robe bunched in Mark’s fingers where he had pulled it almost entirely off the boy’s body. 

“Now, if that’s what you wanted, you could have just asked.” Donghyuck cocked his head to the side innocently, and the feverish magnetism between the two of them was back. 

Mark stopped panting to laugh, tracing his index finger up Donghyuck’s torso teasingly, from his hip, past his nipple to his neck, where he let it rest. They were impossibly close, Donghyuck’s exposed skin flush against Mark’s chest. Mark’s eyes flicked between his eyes and lips, feeling nothing but desire and desperation to kiss them, to see what it felt like.

Melted honey, lazy summer afternoons and lilies.  _ That’s what Donghyuck would taste like _ .

Mark didn’t get a chance to find out, as Donghyuck shifted, propping himself up on his elbows. The motion caused Mark to roll off him, landing softly on his back with their hands still touching. 

“Did you want to hear my voice again?” Donghyuck asked quietly from somewhere next to him, rusing Mark from his thoughts.  _ Yes _ . Mark thought. _ Let me hear your voice.  _

“Please.” Mark said, rolling his head to face Donghyuck. The boy smiled silently, their noses barely brushing. There was space between them, but it was narrow. They were close enough that Mark could feel Donghyuck’s calm, delicate breath on his skin. 

After a pause, Donghyuck sat up, crossing his legs behind Mark. Gentle fingers reached down, lifting Mark’s head and resting it tenderly on Donghyuck’s leg. Mark leaned into Donghyuck’s warmth and sighed. The intensity between them had dissipated again, floating away with the current of the river. It was replaced by an unusual wave of calm which threatened to destroy Mark’s usual cool facade, or at least the image of it. But Mark didn’t seem to care in that moment. 

Somewhere above him, Donghyuck opened his mouth and began to sing again. Mark had missed  _ that voice.  _ It was heaven, if you could only describe it in one word. It sounded like spring in bloom. A new beginning. Petals shedding and reopening. A renaissance. 

Mark let his eyes close when one of Donghyuck’s hands ran through his hair, his touch so gentle. The gentle current of water trickled by on the lake, birds chirping and the tall grass of the lilies rustling softly in the wind. Mark felt at peace basking in the midday sun in the warm embrace of an ethereal boy. 

Without interrupting Donghyuck, he reached his hands out, placing his fingers flat against the ground. The earth was warm and damp with the sweat of summer heat. It was grounding, to feel the heavy pull of gravity, pinning him to the earth, and below that, his home. Tartarus. The Underworld. But the sun didn’t shine there like it does here. 

Mark concentrated. Feeling the familiar  _ pop! _ in the soil, he overturned his hand to reveal a large golden quartz, a precious stone summoned from deep within the earth. 

Donghyuck squealed in delight, a brutal disruption to his song but welcome nonetheless. Mark laughed, opening his eyes to look up at the boy. 

“For you, my Donghyuck.” Mark said, smiling as he handed the quartz to Donghyuck above him. Donghyuck’s face was upside down but his beaming smile said it all. With his ear against Donghyuck’s leg, Mark could feel his pulse racing. 

“Thank you” Donghyuck whispered, voice dripping with sincerity as he leaned down and placed the softest kiss, almost the ghost of a kiss, on Mark’s forehead. Mark’s heart flipped and he blushed at the touch, closing his eyes again and relaxing against the other boy’s figure.  _ Gods _ , what this boy was doing to him. 

“It’s beautiful.” he heard Donghyuck say before he drifted off to the land of Hypnos, still exhausted from the night before, but finally at peace.  _ More than peace,  _ Mark thought _. Bliss.  _

∾


	9. an enigma even in the light

Donghyuck watched the boy in his lap carefully. Mark’s chest rose and fell with the delicate breath of sleep, his closed eyes revealing long lashes softer than a bottlebrush. 

The boy looked at peace, and Donghyuck assumed he didn’t look like that often. It was certainly the first time Donghyuck had seen him so calm, so open. So vulnerable. 

Mark was famous for his strength, his swiftness with a blade, his glory. As the son of Death, darkness defined him. When they had met eyes in the dining hall, Donghyuck felt the cool, icy gaze penetrating him, as if Mark could see through to his soul, was laying him bare and reading him like a book. 

Even when they had spoken for the first time, Mark had led with confidence, a constant offense, pursuing a hole or flaw in Donghyuck’s front.  _ He had found one _ , Donghyuck recalled. That didn’t happen often. 

To see that same boy, skin kissed orange by the setting sun, lying on Donghyuck’s legs; at his mercy. It was peculiar. 

The boy was beautiful, alluring in that he was an enigma. Donghyuck suspected that the son of Hades may be the puzzle he would never quite solve. Despite this, Donghyuck felt the urge to. Something in him yearned to look through those walls Mark held so high, like the marble columns which kept the Temple of Apollo standing. To see what lay beneath; what kind of broken, what kind of ruin. 

For a moment, Donghyuck entertained the thought that Mark could be feeling the same foreign magnetism, like the rekindling of two souls who knew each other in a time before, that dances together through the Isles of the Blessed. 

There was something in Mark’s eyes that told Donghyuck the answer was  _ yes _ , that he felt it too. Yet there was something equally potent in the boy’s eyes that dared him to think twice. To question Mark’s every move, consider all his motives, one for each of head of Cerberus. Mark was an anomaly. 

He shrugged the thought off, begging his mind not to tease at his heart. Despite his strong front, Donghyuck was delicate. He gave too much, fell in love to easily, loved too deeply. 

He was all too familiar with piecing his heart back together again, each time a little more bitter, a little more jaded. And yet he would fall again, fall like Icarus plummeting to the earth, and he would crash, hard. 

But Donghyuck could never fly too close to the sun, not like Icarus. He  _ is  _ the sun. And so he would keep falling, forever. 

He had been schooled by the pain of the past, like lashes to the back’s of condemned souls in Tartarus, and the untouchable walls he had built around himself had worked so far. They had kept out those who pursued him, of which there were many. They had helped elevate him to the status of  _ untouchable.  _

But maybe he wanted to let them fall. Maybe  _ he  _ wanted to fall. He wanted to feel again, to allow himself that freedom. And maybe Mark was the one who could succeed, his most admirable victory yet. 

Or maybe Donghyuck was the first creature Mark couldn’t tame. The man and the myth defeated at his feet. 

The temple’s terracotta bells rang at the strike of midday. Mark stirred in his arms, eyes fluttering open slowly. For a moment, he looked disoriented, lost even. He blinked his eyes, willing away the haze of sleep. Donghyuck felt a smile forming on his lips. The son of Hades was cute,  _ adorable,  _ of all things. 

  
Then, Mark’s eyes snapped open wide. 

“Gods.” he whispered under his breath. 

“What?” Donghyuck asked, confusion settling in. Mark sat up, rather hurriedly. 

“It’s midday. I’m supposed to be training.” Mark said, his eyes wide and serious. Donghyuck scoffed.

“Mark, it’s the solstice. The gods drink, they eat, they laugh. Maybe some diplomacy. No one trains.” he said sarcastically with an amused smirk. Mark took it seriously though.

“I know, but it’s part of Hadian ritual to train with the sword at midday, on the second day of the solstice. It’s in honour of our host, Apollo.” Mark said.

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “I know that, but no one really takes those rituals seriously. Everyone’s too busy being hungover.”

“You’re right, but I take them seriously.” Mark deadpanned, but his tone shifted. “Besides, would you really deny me a duel?” Mark said, a challenge sparkling in his eye. Donghyuck tried to mask his surprise.

“A duel?”

“A duel.” Mark’s smirk was growing. “You and me, in the barracks. I’ve heard so much about you with the bow. I’d love to see it for myself.”. 

They were facing each other now, and Mark leaned forward, placing a conspicuous hand between Donghyuck’s outspread legs. Donghyuck felt heat pool in his stomach. He could practically feel Mark’s cool touch without any contact. Two could play at that game.

“Mark, you’re getting greedy. I already allowed you my voice.” Donghyuck responded, matching Mark’s smirk, his voice dripping with mirth. Donghyuck leaned forward, placing a hand on Mark’s thigh, a little higher than would be deemed just friendly. 

“It’s not my fault you make me greedy.” Mark quipped, his intense eyes boring into Donghyuck’s own. They glanced down at his lips, and Donghyuck glided his tongue over them teasingly. Mark swallowed. 

Mark’s slender fingers wrapped around his wrist, gentled removing his hand from Mark’s thigh and taking it in his own. He intertwined their fingers and stood, helping Donghyuck to his feet. Their bodies were pressed together, so close, and Donghyuck had to raise his gaze slightly to meet Mark’s own.

“Do you accept my challenge?” Mark asked, looking at Donghyuck with an expression he couldn’t read. 

“Of course.” Donghyuck smiled with an edge of competition. Mark matched his smile.   
  
The two turned, walking towards the training barracks in an electric silence, their hands still intertwined.

∾


	10. under this flowery rotunda (we lay)

The familiar arch of the silver bow in Donghyuck’s fingers settles his heart, slows his breath, until all he is is focus. He lets it bounce slightly, dancing in his hand, testing its weight. When he has his bearings, lodges an arrow and raises the bow, his arm pulling backwards in a movement so swift it’s more like a dance than a preparation. 

Donghyuck has done this a thousand times before, under a thousand suns. Felt the comfort of the bow in his arms, an extension of himself. Let the arrow fly loose, with the precision of a hawk. He faces the target, an arrow already perfectly placed in the bullseye. Mark is watching him closely and he can feel the intensity of his gaze.

Donghyuck eyes the target and lets the arrow fly, with no effort. The calm confidence of an expert in his limbs. He watches the arrow sail towards the bullseye. When it lands, it is so perfectly centred, so accurate, that it splits right down through the centre of the arrow that was already there. His skill with the bow serves as testimony to the Apollian blood coursing through his veins; thick, heavy and golden. 

He expects to hear clapping, or at least an acclamation of awe, but he finds silence. He lowers the bow, his golden silk robe slipping off his shoulder, exposing his tan, bare chest. When he turns, the son of Hades is watching him like with an unreadable look, somewhere between wonder and lust. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Donghyuck teases, cocking his head to the side. He can feel the early afternoon breeze, a kiss from Eurus in the East, caressing his skin. Mark’s eyes seem to wander over him and back to his eyes. 

“Your beauty and skill rival that of Apollo and Artemis, Haechan.” Mark finally spoke. Donghyuck felt his dance in his chest at Mark’s words – at the use of his mortal worship name – but he wouldn’t let that show. 

Donghyuck walked towards where he was standing at the side of the shooting range. Mark had watched him from a small rotunda, a circular white outdoor structure held up by tall white columns. It had been designed by Hephaestus as a gift, a place for visitors to watch Artemis and the Hunt train. 

Vines of flowers choked the columns and wrapped around the dome which topped the structure. Standing at the centre of the rotunda, Mark looked like a groom, waiting for Yuta, the Muse of marriage, to marry him to his partner. 

“And your beauty rivals that of Hades and Persephone” Donghyuck said as he advanced towards Mark slowly. “Minhyung, the slayer of Medusa, victor of the gods”. It could have been his imagination playing tricks, but Donghyuck swore he could see the use of Mark’s heroic name doing something to the boy, making him shift slightly.

“And yet...” Donghyuck trailed off, almost in front of Mark now. Mark quirked an eyebrow, inviting him, daring him, to continue. “I’m yet to see any skill.”. 

Donghyuck had to bite his lip to hold back laughter. Teasing and tempting Mark like this was too much fun. They were so close now, any closer and their lips would touch. Mark’s eyes sparkled with something dangerous, something tantalising and audacious. He took a breath and moved so swiftly Donghyuck didn’t see it coming.

With a sword Donghyuck didn’t know Mark had, he swung at him. Donghyuck managed to dodge the attack, stumbling back and catching his breath. Mark let him, with that same playful look in his eye.  _ Oh, this would be interesting _ , Donghyuck thought, never shying away from a challenge. 

Mark calculated his next move in a split second, lunging again, Donghyuck only just barely escaping. Mark didn’t stop this time, swinging, lunging, dancing and slicing through the air with the precision of a warrior. Donghyuck was weaponless, relying on dodging and avoiding Mark’s attacks until he got tired. However, this was proving more difficult than he expected. Mark was fast, light on his toes like a wind nymph, and moving through space and time as if he weren’t constrained by the same laws of physics. 

In one particular movement of his blade that Donghyuck barely dodged, Mark managed to wrap his hand around Donghyuck’s wrist. His touch was ice cold, turning his blood to ice and chilling him to the bone. Donghyuck lept back, clutching at his wrist, and Mark seized the opening. He pounced on him with his blade at the ready, Donghyuck stumbling back.

With his free hand, Mark wrapped it around his back, catching him midair and saving him from a fall. His other hand held the blade inches from Donghyuck’s throat, and Donghyuck didn’t doubt Mark could cut him open in a second, watch the golden ichor poor out of the wound. 

Donghyuck panted, his brain failing to catch up with what had happened. Mark looked down at him with a smile that screamed pride and victory. He was a hero, after all. And he had won. He had defeated Donghyuck. 

Failing to think of anything clever to say, and already tired of the gloat on Mark’s face, he kicked out, tripping Mark and sending the two of them tumbling to the ground.

The two rolled a few times in an intertwined mess. When they finally stopped rolling, Donghyuck was on his back, panting. The marble of the rotunda was cold against his skin, kissing his exposed torso bare. Mark was above him, their chests flush against each other. Mark’s hands were on either side of Donghyuck, pinning him there. One of Mark’s legs was thrown over Donghyuck, holding him there even more securely, as if he was going to get away. 

Donghyuck could only imagine what someone would think, seeing them under the rotunda in such an intimate position. 

“Now, don’t  _ you _ play dirty?” Mark says, with a teasing smile and a light laugh escaping his lips. Donghyuck is still struggling to breathe, no longer because of the duelling but because of their proximity. He never lets that show, though. Instead, he rolls his eyes.

“Me? What about that icy hand trick you pulled?” Donghyuck fought back. Mark laughed again, and a silent moment passed between the two of them. They were so close, and Mark’s lips had been on Donghyuck’s mind since he first laid eyes on him. The image of kissing them haunting him. So completely possible and yet so out of reach. 

_ How would Mark respond? Does he want me to kiss him? Would he reject me? Would he push me away? _

Donghyuck didn’t have a chance to ponder those questions too deeply, because Mark cut him off. With the same swiftness with which he had lunged at Donghyuck, sword in hand, Mark swooped down, his hand cupping Donghyuck’s cheek gently. His lips, soft and red, crashed against Donghyuck’s, in a collision of passion. 

Donghyuck’s head was sluggish, lagging behind, and it took him a moment to realise what was happening. That moment was enough for Mark to hesitate, his lips on Donghyuck’s own unresponsive ones. But before Mark could pull away, Donghyuck wrapped his hands around Mark’s neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

He could feel Mark’s surprise, and his relief, as he leaned into the kiss. They continued like that for a while, with Mark’s hand on his cheek lowering, to wrap gently around Donghyuck’s neck. Donghyuck moaned quietly, heat pooling in his stomach. Mark grinned into the kiss and Donghyuck tightened his grip on the back of Mark’s neck, pulling at his hair softly. 

Their bodies were flush together, Mark’s silky blouse caressing Donghyuck’s exposed chest. Donghyuck could feel Mark’s slight erection pressed against his leg, and he smiled internally. So he  _ was  _ having an affect on Mark. Despite his cool resolve, Donghyuck had managed to put Mark under his spell, just like Mark had done to him. 

After a while, they were forced to pull away from each other, catching their breath. Donghyuck tried to permanently burn the image of Mark above him into his brain; lips wet and swollen, panting slightly under his breath. It was a beautiful image. 

Mark seemed to hesitate for a moment, his aura shifting. He turned his head, as if he had seen or heard something. 

Remember that thought Donghyuck had earlier, about what someone may think if they saw the two of them like  _ this _ ? Well, Donghyuck didn’t have to wonder anymore. He got his answer, in the form of one Lucas, son of Ares, screaming  _ “sweet mother of Zeus!” _ , and Jungwoo, son of Aphrodite, whacking him excitedly with a knowing, victorious smile _.  _

In that moment, Donghyuck wanted nothing more than for Thanatos to descend upon him, to take him in his clutches and make him disappear. To take him somewhere far, far away. 

∾


	11. sunlilies shine brighter in the moonlight

_ Boom. Boom. Boom. _

Donghyuck’s heart in his chest pounded at an erratic pace, way too fast considering he was lying in bed. The golden candles lining his room flickered in the moonlight, which poured in through his large open window. 

Despite the comfort of his handwoven silk sheets, the best in the land, he was restless. Unable to sleep despite the hour. His head and his heart were both wide awake with the curse of passion, taunted by thoughts of Mark and his lips, which  _ my gods  _ were so soft, yet strong. 

Mark on top of him, pinning him there so gently that it was just the suggestion of strength, the threat of power, that reminder that Mark has the ability to ruin him. And maybe Donghyuck wanted him to. Maybe that’s why he was awake when the moon was, too.

After what felt like hours, he decided to get up. Donghyuck swung his legs off the bed, feet landing on the cool marble of his floor, and padded towards the windowseat that lined the grand window. It was silk, like his bed, decorated with pillows and books. Donghyuck crawled over it, peering out the window.

It was a clear evening, as it always was in Delos. Selene had driven the moon high into the sky, her unbroken pale light casting down on the temple and illuminating everything in her path. The fields of sunlilies lost their golden glow in the night, paling to a cool silver that reminded Donghyuck of Artemis, and her silver bow. 

Delos was silent, save for the coos of several owls in the distant woodlands. It was so quiet Donghyuck could hear the movement of the lake not too far away, overpowered by the crashing, tumbling power of the cascading lakes which poured off the edge and plummeted towards the earth. 

The temple was silent, making it easy to forget that it currently housed the Olympian gods, their children and a host of magical creatures. The days of endless festivities had tired even the immortal. But not Donghyuck. He was wide awake.

Tomorrow at dusk, when the Hesperides graced the evening sky with the golden light of sunset, the Dance of Apollo would begin. It occurred every solstice, as was tradition, on the third day. Apollo would ready his golden chariot and stallions, riding for a full sun cycle in honour of his mother, Leto. This paralleled the Flight of Artemis, a similar ritual which took place during the winter solstice. 

For the first time, Donghyuck was allowed to attend the ritual, and so with that had come a host of responsibilities. He was expected to recite the  _ Hymn to Apollo _ whilst Apollo prepared for his journey. All the gods and guests would attend, which included Mark.

However, this isn’t why Donghyuck is nervous. With a voice gifted by the Nine Muses, Donghyuck had more than enough courage. It would be the honour of anyone lucky enough to listen to him. 

No, the reason he felt on edge is because of Mark. To have shared such an intimate moment, only to be separated by other demigods like sheepish children. It was torture. Somewhere in Donghyuck’s mind, he wondered if it was plaguing Mark too.

But there was no point entertaining that thought. He couldn’t risk being tired at the ritual tomorrow, for his father expected only the best from him. He needed to get some sleep, fast, but his heart didn’t seem to agree.

Sighing in frustration, Donghyuck decided to run a bath. He walked to his bathroom, a white marble room attached to his own. 

At the centre of the room was a large bath, big enough for ten demigods to fit. Its marble caught the moonlight streaming in from another window, and Donghyuck hoped the comfort of a warm bath would be enough to relax him, to ease his mind. 

He lit several candles which lined the bath with a flick of his hand. Being the son of the Sun certainly had its quirks. Taking a deep breath, Donghyuck closed his eyes and recited the prayer:

_ “Naiades of the fountain, daughters of Zeus, may this bath be filled with the freshwaters of Delos.” _

Donghyuck opened his eyes again as the candles in the room flickered. Seconds later, water poured out of the golden tap at the side of the bath with tremendous force. Donghyuck smiled to himself. 

The Naiades of Delos were lovely creatures, nymphs with long hair like rivers and naked, pale skin like water. They had watched over him often as a child when we had wandered out of the temple and ended up in their freshwater lakes. 

They would watch him splash around and play, and when he got tired they would hold him in their arms and sing to him, stroking his hair like his mother did. 

His mother would spend hours calling his name, searching all of Delos for the curious, inquisitive boy. When Daphne would finally find Donghyuck, giggling and singing along with the Naiades, instant reassurance would wash over her. There was a maternal kindness to the nymphs; they would never harm her little, cheeky demigod. 

Sometimes Daphne would join them in the lake, Donghyuck remembered fondly. A bird would settle on her shoulder and she would laugh, that beautiful smile of hers lighting up her face like a sunrise spilling over the horizon.

It had been a while since Donghyuck had felt so free, the burden of being a god settling in. Hours of training, reading, writing and reciting, courting, politics and practicing had taken their toll. The week of festivities was a breath of fresh air. 

The past few days had felt magical, laced with that childhood carelessness he so craved. Visions of nectar, of sunlilies and running through the fields, of flowery rotundas, summer sweat, and intimate kisses. 

The past few days had felt magical, mostly because of Mark. 

Willing his mind away from the son of Hades, Donghyuck poured lavender, thyme and laurel oils into the swirling water, watching his own reflection wobble on the surface. He took a deep breath, allowing the scents of his childhood to wash him over. 

A woven basket next to the bath held freshly picked flowers from all over Delos; freesias, rue,  peonies and  lilies wilting in the moonlight. Donghyuck plucked the flowers from their place in the basket and placed them on the water’s surface.

The bath was almost full, the freshwater warm with a hint of steam. Silk slipped off his shoulders and fell to his ankles, where he kicked his robe aside. 

Donghyuck felt an instant wave of tranquility wash over him as he submerged most of his body. His naked body felt light in the water, like the very air that Delos floated on. Part of all this reminded him of those summers spent in the lakes with the Naiades, and he smiled again fondly at the memory. 

Donghyuck settles, allowing his heavy lids to close with inevitable sleep crawling its way in. Absentmindedly, he begins singing his favourite song;  _ A Tale of Two Lovers.  _

As a child, Taeil would sing it to him every night that he couldn’t sleep. It filled his heart with hope for love, for connection. Something he didn’t realise he had been longing for, until he felt it again. With Mark. 

Many moments pass in unbroken silence. The smell of lavender is particularly thick, like an inviting whisper from Hypnos, beckoning him to the depths of sleep. His mind is just beginning to settle when there is a knock at the bathroom door.

∾


	12. a hero takes what is his

All the tantalising murmurs of sleep are torn away, and Donghyuck jerks up. Spinning his head around to face the door, he finds the son of Hades. 

There was a mortal saying Donghyuck had heard once, from Jaemin.  _ Speak of the devil, and he doth appear.  _ Mark certainly wasn’t the devil, but he was the devil’s son. And as long as this wasn’t an illusion summoned by Hecate, Mark had really appeared. 

Donghyuck quirked a questioning eyebrow at the boy, one which had such a knowing air of teasing that he hoped it concealed how hard his heart was beating. How fast his mind was whirring. It was an unblessed hour – Artemis’ moon high in the sky – and Mark was in his private chambers. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Mark spoke, and Donghyuck took a moment to take him in. 

Mark was wearing a pale silk blouse, shining like Poseidon’s pearls in the luminescent moonlight. His pale skin dazzled in the moonlight, in that hazy, blinding way that has Donghyuck blinking. 

His eyes dropped to Mark’s legs, concealed by white pantaloons, like those that dancers wore for freedom of movement during the winter solstice. Like the ones Sicheng was almost always wearing. 

He looked back up at Mark, who was watching him with a hint of satisfaction. There was something different in his eyes, an intensity like fire, burning and yearning like that which that burned eternally in the temple of Apollo. It was like the gaze they had shared at the feast, the heat between them when they spoke for the first time. 

It was in that moment that Donghyuck realised he was naked. His torso was fully exposed by the low levels of water, which lapped against his hip bones, threatening to reveal more if he moved in the right way. The water was slick with oils and flowers, murky enough to cover what was below the waterline. Donghyuck did love to play games, though, and this would be interesting. 

Teasingly, he turned his head back, away from Mark, forcing Mark to enter deeper into the room. Mark walked to the edge of the bath on the right side, staring down at his exposed body with an unwavering intensity. Donghyuck tried not to quiver beneath it.

“Neither. But what brings you to my bathroom, of all places?” Donghyuck asks, matching Mark’s smirk. Instead of retreating, like Donghyuck had expected after putting Mark on the spot, a wave of even more boldness passed across his face. His expression was, in one word,  _ hungry _ . 

“You, actually. You are the reason I couldn’t sleep.” Donghyuck paled. He took a breath, gathering himself together. He wouldn’t let Mark see how he unravelled him just with hid words. Not yet. 

“Is that so?” Donghyuck quipped back, as if it wasn’t the same reason he couldn’t sleep. Visions of soft and greedy kisses shared under floral rotundas had been all but haunting Donghyuck since that afternoon.

Mark lowered himself until he was sitting on the edge of the porcelain bath, his eyes never leaving Donghyuck. Donghyuck watched him with the kind of drunken slowness one would expect only from too many cups of nectar. 

Mark reached out a hand towards Donghyuck, casting delicate and long shadow across the golden lit walls. It grazed Donghyuck’s chin, tilting it slightly upwards to look up at Mark. 

“You’re so golden.” Mark said, looking down at him. His words were sincere, yet his eyes were hungry, insatiable. Like Donghyuck was something he needed to win, to consume, to conquer. And what scared him the most was that Donghyuck would let him. 

“Are you sure it’s not your own reflection you are seeing?” Donghyuck flashed back, smiling as Mark’s touch on his chin became firmer. Mark laughed, and so did Donghyuck, losing himself in the moment, so delirious and joyful. 

Then silence fell between the two of them, broken by the steady thudding of Donghyuck’s heart in his chest. Only o ne thought raced through his mind, pulsing like his heart;  _ how can I get to the skin below that silk?  _

An idea flashed across his mind and Donghyuck acted before he thought. Swinging an arm across the water and up towards Mark, he splashed him with a significant amount of water, startling the boy. Mark was surprised, frozen there on the edge of the bath like an Aegean cat drenched in water. Donghyuck seized the moment, wrapping his arms around Mark’s waist and pulling him backwards until his body came tumbling backwards into the bath. 

There was a loud and messy splash, sending water splattering all over the marble floor. The bathwater rocked back and forth like one of Poseidon’s angry storms, each sway threatening to spill over. 

When Mark resurfaced, Donghyuck was howling with laughter. Mark’s dark hair was slicked against his forehead as he ran his fingers through it, sweeping it back off his face to reveal an expression of half-mirth and half-rage. Kneeling against the marble bath, Mark towered over Donghyuck. 

Donghyuck clutched at his stomach, his insides hurting. When he managed to settle, looking up at Mark again, he expected the boy to say something, to get angry or to retaliate. No such thing happened. Instead, Mark’s eyes burned down at him from his position above. Donghyuck gulped, feeling the familiar sense of heat pooling in his stomach.

He was naked, and so vulnerable, laid bare like an offering to the gods, to Mark. Mark was unpredictable, never acting in the way Donghyuck anticipated. Just like when they had jousted earlier that day in the barracks. He was always left-of-field, managing to surprise even Donghyuck. 

Maybe that’s what made it so fun. Maybe that’s what he liked. 

Mark’s anger seemed to dissolve, melting away in the water like herbal oils. 

And suddenly Mark looked like desire all over again, his wet silk clothes translucent and clinging to his skin so tightly. Donghyuck noticed the toned definition of Mark’s torso, the body of a warrior, where lean muscle ripped through his flesh. 

With the white pantaloons now soaking wet, Donghyuck could see Mark’s erection growing. Donghyuck, clearly caught staring, looked up at Mark again. This time he was the one with a look of smug satisfaction. 

“Mark, your clothes are ruined. You should remove them before they get more damaged.” Donghyuck smirked, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“Hm, they’re a bit stuck. Would you be able to help me?” Mark responded, the question innocent. Donghyuck obeyed, lifting himself to his knees in front of Mark. 

The water was no longer high enough to cover his own erection, the veil of ambiguity falling as he rose to Mark’s height. Mark looked at him, and down, his eyes taking in all of Donghyuck. His naked body on full display, tan skin still glowing with warmth even in the darkness of the night. 

“Like what you see?” Donghyuck cocked his head sideways. Mark hummed, biting his lip beneath his teeth. “Let me help you.” Donghyuck said, reaching towards his blouse and unbuttoning the clasps with expert fingers. 

Donghyuck peeled back the silk, helping Mark out of the blouse and tossing it to the side. It slapped the cold marble. 

Mark’s muscular but lean body now on full display, Donghyuck’s breath hitched in his throat. Mark was a true god, flesh and blood.

As Donghyuck’s fingers wandered to Mark’s pants, Mark wrapped his arms around Donghyuck’s neck, gently pulling him close. Their noses were brushing and Donghyuck could feel the son of Hades breath on his lips. 

Those lips, red like rubies and soft like golden wattle. Donghyuck missed them. He craved them, like a starved animal. The slightly metallic taste a reminder of Mark’s bloodline, hailing from the precious metals of the earth beneath them. 

Donghyuck began to unbutton the clasps, slowly, one by one, just to tease Mark. He could sense Mark’s growing urgency, matching his own, which was confirmed when Mark pulled him closer, a little more aggressive this time. 

Their lips finally collided, hasty and hungry and any sense of slowness out the window. Donghyuck’s hands, still at work, managed to open the pants completely. In an awkward dance, he managed to remove them with Mark’s help. 

Mark’s tongue licked at Donghyuck’s lips, asking for permission, and Donghyuck let him, opening his mouth and allowing Mark to enter. 

As they kissed, Mark’s hands were in Donghyuck’s hair, gentle enough to not hurt him but firm enough to hold him in place, as if Mark thought he would slip away. 

It was like a kiss between two lovers who had been apart for eons, condemned to be apart. Their lips, hands and bodies moved in a harmony that told the tale of two souls who had loved, and loved before, in many lives. 

Mark’s hands dropped to Donghyuck’s lower back, and he shuddered at the touch. In a swift movement, Mark pulled Donghyuck closer, bare skin flush against bare skin. 

Donghyuck could feel Mark’s penis, now fully erect, against his own, and he moaned softly. He felt Mark grin into the kiss, knowing without opening his eyes that Mark adorned a look of pure satisfaction. 

A surge of confidence pulsed through Donghyuck’s body, perhaps driven by the urge to touch, to be touched, to take control. With his confidence and wit, Donghyuck always led with offense. He loved to take control, to dominate, only to then be dominated. Like the dance of dragons, Ladon and Draco, flying and falling and tumbling in a battle for dominance.

With that intensity pumping through his blood, Donghyuck pushed Mark back firmly, so that Mark was sitting, leaning against the wall of the bath. Donghyuck revelled in the look of surprise that briefly graced Mark’s face. 

In that moment of weakness, Donghyuck moved downwards, kissing Mark’s jaw, his neck, his collar bones which arched like the defined hills and valleys of Mount Olympus. Donghyuck kissed lower, and lower, swiping his tongue across Mark’s nipple, earning a soft groan from Mark whose breathing was getting heavier. 

Donghyuck smiled against Mark’s skin, softer than honey and warmer than the sun. He moved lower and lower at a tantalising pace, until Mark’s hand was in his hair again, grabbing at it needily.

Donghyuck rolled his eyes at Mark’s desperation. Mark shot him a frustrated look. This was how it always went. Donghyuck would poke, prod, knowing Mark would retaliate eventually. Would dominate him the way he wanted to be. 

When Donghyuck reached Mark’s erection, hard and swollen and begging to be touched, he took it in one hand, running a stripe along the underside of the length with his tongue. Mark groaned, deeper this time, a guttural sound. His head was rolling back against the porcelain, his eyes closed softly. 

If this wasn’t a stroke to Donghyuck’s ego, then he wasn’t sure what was. Donghyuck’s beauty always affected people, but it felt so different, so  _ good _ , to have it effect Mark. The kind of satisfaction that goes straight to your head and almost immediately south. 

Donghyuck smiled, and took all of Mark in his mouth. With little hesitation, he moved up and down at a delirious pace; fast enough that Mark was moaning but slow enough to not be  _ enough _ . Mark’s hands were grabbing desperately at Donghyuck’s hair, begging for more,  _ more _ ,  _ more.  _

After a few moments, Donghyuck pulled away abruptly, sitting back and looking at Mark and the state of mess he was in. He ran a hand over his wet and swollen lips, feeling his own erection untouched and throbbing against his pelvis. 

“Don’t be so greedy, Mark. You’re a hero.” Donghyuck watched Mark’s eyes come open, watching him intensely. “If you want more, you have to come and take it.” Donghyuck spoke, and that was enough for Mark to come alive, with a vivacious electricity. 

Mark moved forward, catching Donghyuck in a kiss and moving him back against the opposite bath wall, their positions switched. The porcelain was cool on his bare skin, a welcome relief from the sweaty heat that pulsed through the bath. 

Mark on top of him felt like heaven. His weight the perfect pressure, pinning him there, comforting and offering him the stability he craved. It was like the rotunda again, except this time he could feel everything. Mark’s heartbeat pounding in his chest. His breathing rough against Donghyuck’s lips. His penis, wet with Donghyuck’s saliva, pressed roughly against his leg.

Mark put his lips on Donghyuck again in a hurried and passionate kiss. Donghyuck circled his hand around Mark’s neck, the other teasingly close to Mark’s erection. They broke apart only for air. 

“What do you want?” Mark whispered against Donghyuck’s neck, where he was kissing, sucking and biting softly. Marking Donghyuck as his. Donghyuck let out a sound somewhere between a moan and whine. 

Mark laughed softly against his skin. He didn’t need to say it. It was unspoken. Donghyuck needed Mark, as much as Mark needed him. 

“I want you.” Donghyuck breathed. “All of you.” his voice was breathy, barely a whisper. Mark didn’t say anything, responding with a gentle hand which reached between Donghyuck’s legs and spread them. Donghyuck opened like honey oozed out of a hive, slick and hot and  _ ready _ . 

One of Mark’s long fingers, which Donghyuck had admired that day at the feast, entered inside him gently. It felt so good, a taste of what it feels like to be full, to be whole. To be completed. Donghyuck moaned, clenching down around Mark’s finger, which worked him open gently. He whined, needy for more, for Mark to go deeper. 

Mark smiled with the nerve of someone who had done this many times before. He knew what he was doing. And even more so, what he was doing to Donghyuck. For the first time since they met, Donghyuck was letting his walls down. He was allowing Mark to see him, truly. To read him. To know how he felt, how much he wanted Mark. To be vulnerable. 

Maybe it was crazy, that Donghyuck was being so open. Here, naked, his legs open, at Mark’s mercy. But it was Mark; it was as if when they first met eyes, Mark had touched his heart, staining it like ink. 

Donghyuck was brought back to his senses when Mark entered a second, and a third finger, stretching him wide so easily. His other hand wrapped around Donghyuck’s dick, hard and already leaking with precum despite being untouched. Donghyuck shivered at the touch; it was like an electric spark that ignited his bones and rattled to his core. 

“Are you ready?” Mark asked, kissing at his neck again. Donghyuck rolled his head back, so completely open for Mark’s taking. He couldn’t find the words so he nodded, and Mark laughed at him gently.

  
His fingers left Donghyuck, only for a moment that was long enough to leave Donghyuck urgent, desperate to be filled. It didn’t last long, as soon enough Mark was thrusting inside of him, all the way with ease. 

Donghyuck almost screamed in pleasure, euphoria pulsing through his body. The feeling of Mark _inside_ of him even more fulfilling than his fingers had been. Mark finds an intoxicating pace, fucking into him with intense eyes and gentle kisses to his lips. Donghyuck is gasping and moaning in delight, eyes clamping shut every time Mark hits his prostate. 

Above him, Mark looks hungry with desire, water beading at his temples that isn’t from the bathwater. His free hand snakes around Donghyuck’s erection, enough to almost send him over the edge. He strokes it rhythmically, working Donghyuck closer and closer towards his orgasm. 

Feeling himself moving there rapidly, having dreamed of this since he first laid eyes on the boy, Donghyuck moans out Mark’s name and other words incoherently, Mark’s cock inside him fucking him senseless. 

“Mark. Mark.” Donghyuck pants out desperately. He’s so close now and isn’t sure he will last much longer. “I’m so close.”

“I know, darling.” Mark says somewhere above him. Donghyuck’s eyes are closed now, the sensory overload keeping them shut. “I want you to come for me.” Mark says, and that’s enough to send Donghyuck over, pleasure exploding from him in screams and moans loud enough for the whole of Delos to hear. Hot white cum spurts out, burning the soft skin of his stomach. 

Mark is moaning too now, getting closer. Donghyuck fights against the oversensitivity and exhaustion, desperate to see Mark come undone. He grinds his hips up in a delirious way that has Mark rolling his head back, his pace so fast now that water is splashing everywhere. Donghyuck grinds up against him again, his other hand grabbing at Mark’s throat. 

“Donghyuck.” is all Mark chokes out, almost screaming as he finally comes, the explosive wave of pleasure racking through his body in an intense shudder.

After a few moments, his pace slows, and waves of pleasure and exhaustion wash over them both with the rocking bathwater. Mark sighs as he collapses against Donghyuck, his head buried in the warmth of Donghyuck’s neck.

Donghyuck wraps his arms around Mark’s back, rubbing soothing circles into his pale skin. 

“Fuck.” is the most intelligent thing Donghyuck manages to muster, and Mark just groans. His mind is slow again, drunken on nectar, on a delirious high that smells and tastes like Mark. 

They stay like that for a few moments, before Mark moves back slightly, looking at Donghyuck with an unreadable expression. He plants a soft kiss on Donghyuck’s lips, delicate and tender, and so unlike the hungry kisses they had shared moments ago. 

That was what made it invigorating. They would toss and tumble violently between tender kisses and desperate moans, intensity burning and diffusing like an electrical storm. It was disorienting and dizzying, and Donghyuck loved every second of it. 

He stares at the boy in his arms, trying to commit the moment to memory. All he could see, taste, feel and think about was Mark. And how he felt on his lips, on his neck, inside of him. 

Donghyuck hummed in pleasure and Mark smiled softly, rubbing their noses together. Neither of them felt the need to speak, their unspoken conversation exchanged through gentle kisses and touches, as both of them were overcome with sleepy exhaustion, finally settling in and beckoning them to its depths. 

The last thing Donghyuck thought of before he drifted off to that dark, peaceful place, was the son of Hades, with sunlilies in his hair and sparkling gems in his eyes. 

∾


	13. the kiss of Hesperides; sunrise

Warm, yellow sunlight tickles at Mark’s eyelashes, gently bringing him back from the depths of sleep and tempting him to the land of the living. He takes a deep, sleep-laced breath and opens his eyes. 

He is in a room not too dissimilar from his own. Tall, white walls, grand, spacious floors and marble busts of gods and goddesses in the corners. However, this room is impossibly more grand, with a large window that lets the entirety of Delos spill in. 

There is a window seat, covered with pillows and books thrown astray, and the sun is high enough in the early morning sky to reach the bed, large enough for a cyclops and covered in golden silk sheets.

Next to him, Mark can feel a weight, a warmth. More so than that of a body, but that of a god. The warmth of the sun. 

Mark rolls his head slightly to his right, where he finds Donghyuck. The boy is asleep, his long lashes casting delicate shadows on his golden-dusted cheeks. Mark’s arm is underneath his neck, holding him in a close embrace they must have slept in. Donghyuck looks peaceful. Angelic. 

Something turns in Mark’s heart at the sight. Something deeper than intimacy. 

He doesn’t have long to dwell on it, because Donghyuck stirs next to him, fighting for his grip on sleep in a losing battle. His eyes flutter open, and he looks like liquid gold in the morning light. Mark’s heart is sinking, not in sadness but in the overwhelming realisation that he has fallen. Fallen head first into the darkness, something he didn’t know he was capable of. 

Next to him, Donghyuck takes a deep breath, breathing in the warmth, their bare torsos flush together, and looks up at him with those eyes that held more power than an army of gods. 

“Good morning, lover.” Donghyuck spoke, his voice slightly rough with the kiss of sleep. Mark smiled at the name, memories of last night flooding back in; of skin against skin, intimate kisses and desperate moans. And the most peaceful sleep which had followed. 

“Morning, my sunshine.” Mark said back, no hint of teasing or jest in his voice. He meant it. Donghyuck blushed, his cheeks dusted a pretty shade of pink. His heart shaped lips curled into a smile he tried to hide by burying his face in Mark’s neck. 

Mark laughed at Donghyuck, confident and open last night and yet bashful like a child now. 

A few moments of peaceful silence fell over the two of them, reminiscing on last night, basking in the liquid warmth of the sun climbing higher in the sky. 

Donghyuck shifted, lifting the silk sheets off his naked body and leaving the bed. Mark groaned at the absence of warmth, feeling it like an ache in his heart. He rolled over, reaching after Donghyuck which earned him a soft laugh from the son of Apollo. 

Donghyuck walked towards the windowsill, eyes scanning over the books cast aside carefully. He plucked one carefully, carrying it close to his heart as he walked back to the bed and climbed in.

Mark enjoyed the sight; a god, not just any, but a  _ golden  _ god, naked and at his eyes’ mercy. Mark raked them over the boy’s body, hungrily, desperate to commit every inch of the boy’s lean, sculpted figure to memory. 

When Donghyuck settles above Mark in the bed, pulling Mark close so that he was laying on Donghyuck’s chest, Mark sighed happily. The return of warmth was so welcome, despite the summer heat of morning starting to angrily knock on the window of the room. 

In Donghyuck’s arms he felt safe, and not weak at all despite being so vulnerable. There was a comfort to Donghyuck’s warm skin. It grounded him, wrapping its tendrils around Mark’s erratic and whirring mind, pulling him back to earth for a moment. Being in Donghyuck’s embrace was like digging your toes into soft grass, feeling the weight of gravity centre you again. 

Mark sighed again, wrapping a loose arm around Donghyuck’s stomach and closing his eyes. He wasn’t tired anymore, but incredibly peaceful. Donghyuck chuckled, and Mark felt it shake his whole body. He smiled up at the boy before settling again with his head on Donghyuck’s cheek.

“What would the mortals say?  _ Gods _ , what would the gods say at this sight?” Donghyuck teased. “The legendary hero, slayer of beasts and monsters, lying naked in my arms. The people would talk.” Mark could hear the smile in Donghyuck’s voice, equally fond as it was sarcastic. 

Mark simply groaned intelligently in response, slapping Donghyuck’s arm gently. They laughed and Donghyuck lifted the book in his hand, opening it with gentleness and care. 

“This is my favourite epic poetry the mortals have written. My father read it to me as a child.” Donghyuck said, his voice laced with warmth.

“That is saying something, if the god of poetry approves of it.” Mark said, and Donghyuck laughed. “What is it?” Mark asked.

“Homer’s  _ Odyssey. _ ” Donghyuck said, and Mark laughed. It was one of the most famous mortal works about the gods. He was all too familiar with it. Donghyuck spoke, this time a little defensive.

“I know, I know, it’s obvious. But there’s something about Calypso and Odysseus that I’ve always found fascinating. The way she traps him on her island, and they fall in love. It’s romantic but also kind of twisted.” Donghyuck spoke, a pensive silence following.

“Is that your plan for me? To trap me here on Delos, to enchant me with your voice, and to make me fall in love with you?” Mark quipped, smiling up at Donghyuck. He expected the boy to blush, but he fired back equally fast.

“Oh, Mark, we both know that that wouldn’t be a difficult task.” now it was Mark who was blushing, rather furiously. He knew Donghyuck was right. “It’s obvious, Mark. You’re falling harder than Icarus.” Donghyuck spoke, but his voice was barely teasing, more affectionate.

Mark laughed. “Then fall with me.” he paused. “Let’s get lost together.” 

Donghyuck smiled the most tender smile, light beaming from his amber eyes like pure sunrise. Then he spoke, softer than a whisper. 

“Minhyung, I’m already lost.” 

And Mark smiled wider than he ever had before. He felt high, drunk and lucid at the same time, caught in a whirlwind of bliss, ecstasy and sunlight, blinded and in love. 

Tales of two lovers, especially gods, had always been epic. They would fall hard, their love changing the course of the mortal world and burning so bright it became revered in temples and worshipped by the masses. 

Gods loved differently, with the sadness of knowing you had spent eons without this feeling, and the euphoria of knowing you had the rest of Time to chase it. To tend to its flames, to allow it to burn brighter than the sun itself.

From Donghyuck’s soft, Cupid shaped lips, came words telling a similar tale; one of a nymph and king, who fell in love on a floating island. Mark’s eyes were closed, his breathing steadied in a peaceful rhythm. 

Mark couldn’t help but wonder silently if those cherubs had really been up to mischief that day at the feast. Mark was drunk, drunk on Donghyuck and the thick, summer heat of love. 

He decided he liked it best here, between the sun and the sky. He was under Eros’ spell, mesmerised and dazed. But he was happy to be. Because under the son of Apollo, he had found bliss. He had found his own piece of Elysium. 

∾

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it ! 
> 
> you can find me on my twitter [ophelialilies](https://twitter.com/ophelialilies) or on [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ophelialilies) ! feel free to message me, I love hearing from you guys ♡


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